CONNECT: FEELING GOOD? (Spring 2022)

AMAZING By Andréa E. Williams

Do you remember when you first didn’t feel like yourself? Whether the pep in your step left or that thang wasn’t thanging” anymore, you knew that something was not right. Maybe the pain intensified and interfered with your everyday life. In an effort not to be overly dramatic, you tried to give yourself home remedies that were passed through the family for generations. But this time, they didn’t work.

Now you’re at the doctor advocating for yourself. The doctor may be cutting the side eye at you because you don’t look like what you’ve been through or what you’re describing. You insist that the doctor run tests. Nothing is found. Now you and the doctor have a dance over time. Perhaps you go get a second opinion, but again, nothing is found.

You follow up. You eat right. You exercise. You pray. You drink plenty of water. You moisturize your skin. You work hard. You play hard. And you continue to advocate for yourself to the medical professionals that you have entrusted to figure out what’s going on with you. You keep a journal listing prescriptions and descriptions of events. You continue to work on your mental, spiritual, and emotional self while pouring into others. Finally, a medical red flag reveals itself, prompting the medical professionals to investigate further. At last, they realize the “nothing” was the something that would rock your world and change your life forever.

I LIVED THIS EXPERIENCE. TWICE.

In 2012, I was diagnosed with Systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE) while I was serving in the U.S. Army. SLE is an autoimmune disease in which the immune system attacks its own tissues, causing widespread inflammation and tissue damage in the affected organs. It can affect the joints, skin, brain, lungs, kidneys, and blood vessels. There is no cure for lupus, but medical interventions and lifestyle changes can help control it.

At the time of diagnosis, I was a non-commissioned officer who thoroughly enjoyed leading, motivating, and developing soldiers. I didn’t understand how dreadful this illness is until I had to be medically retired from the military after nearly 14 years of service. My heart was broken but my passion for service was not. I had to embrace and learn how to function in my new identity.

IT WAS DIFFICULT.

I failed, folded, and flopped more times than I can count. Eventually, I settled into my new role. Instead of pouring into communities abroad, I could and would bring what I learned back to the community where I lived and pour into the people there.

In 2021, I learned that I had cancer. This diagnosis followed the grand opening of my firearms training business. I am grateful that the cancer was caught and removed early. I am overjoyed and humbled to be cancer-free while I am still recovering from my treatment plan. I am still navigating my emotions with this experience. I am still healing all parts of me and coming to terms with what was and what is.

I share these experiences because this isn’t about me. This is about the woman who is in a place where she is trying to figure it out. This is to the woman who is trying to find balance while coping with the nuances of her illness. To this woman I share one of my greatest lessons. There are two things in life that don’t have to define you: your mistakes and your illnesses. Own them. Don’t let them own you.

My experiences have taught me that claiming illness and owning illness are two different things. Claiming my illness is not doing anything to proactively live with or heal from it. Owning my illness is acknowledging that I’m going through significant changes which require significant attention. I owned my illness by being intentional about learning the processes and struggles that I am faced with.

I’m honest with myself about what I can and cannot do. I use the word “no” more. I have truly found acceptance in the things that I cannot change. There’s joy and peace in that. But, of course, some days are better than others.

I have learned to own my illness and to own its impact on my life. But I don’t let it own me. The physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual tests can quickly steal my joy. But joy re-enters the space when I look beyond my own challenges and instead use it to help someone else navigate through theirs. I’ve also found joy in establishing and maintaining my boundaries.

Life is precious. Life is unpredictable. Life’s journey is full of straight and narrow passages, crossroads, mountains, deserts, crowded thoroughfares, rough and peaceful seas, and paths less taken, ultimately leading to our sunrises and sunsets. The journey becomes difficult when health woes (which I call health uh-oh’s) introduce themselves and decide to stick around for a while. When illness strikes, the mountains that we learned to climb over time become bigger and rougher to get over.

But I tell myself that those mountains are still climbable. I can still sail on those rough seas because I have learned to adapt and I have filled my kit with the appropriate tools to help me along the way.

In sickness and in health, this life is beautiful and amazing, and it is all mine. Be inspired. Be encouraged. Live.